The Place
by alexbass
Summary: It had been four years since she saw her last. But seeing her pregnant and with a toddler just did things to Santana's inside. The only problem was that ring on her finger.
1. Chapter One: Oblivion

AN: Hello! I'm back from the dead with a new story in a new fandom.

This is my first attempt at writing something for Glee, well, really anything other than Gossip Girl.

If, by any chance, someone that read my Dair stories, which I deleted (Sorry to those who followed, they were awful), thank you for the support, and if you ship Brittana like me, welcome.

Well, onto the story. Enjoy.

* * *

The Place.

Chapter One: Oblivion.

You could say Santana Lopez was, for lack of a better word, a dumbass. In fact, you could say it to her face and she wouldn't go '_all Lima Heights on your_ _ass' _because she knew she was. Her thoughts were constantly along that line whenever a certain blonde came into her mind throughout the day, which let's face it was all the time. Everything reminded her of the love of her life who she let go. Santana lived in a constant state of not knowing what was happening around her.

Thanks to Kurt and his band of misfits, she had gotten her big break with a talent scout that so happened to be passing through a bar they were playing in. He wanted the band as a whole, but Kurt decline because he preferred the assistant editor job to . Rachel had her hands full with Funny Girl, besides _that's not the fame I want, Santana, maybe Dani will go with you. _But Dani left her after she knew the full extent of Santana's love for Brittany, (maybe it was the screaming out _Brittany_ during a particularly intense night, who knows.) So both her and Starchild got their own solo acts in Master Records, a relatively new company but had some decent acts.

That was four years ago. In year two, around halfway way through, the details were hazy, Santana got an invitation in the mail. The envelope was plain enough, she was about to dismiss it, (she got a lot of invitations now a days, really her debut album was _still_ in the charts; with reason, her single _Baby Came Home_ literally were her feelings poured out to the world), when Quinn called.

"Hello?"

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked from the other side, she sounded a little nervous and maybe a bit scared. _Odd,_ thought Santana before she answered,

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Brittany's pregnant. Sam and her got back together a few months ago." Quinn said, with a hint of sympathy that angered Santana. She didn't want anyone's pity.

"If she's happy, then I'm happy," she whispered into the receiver and Quinn almost didn't caught it.

"Santana, she invited us to the baby shower, it's next week, are we going?" Santana didn't miss the hidden message by that 'we', _I'll be there for you either way,_ resonated in her mind.

"You go if you want to, Q, I have an album to write. I'll just send her a gift or something. Is she still in Boston?" And it was Quinn's turn to hear the hidden _I'm not ready to see her,_ in Santana's tone. And that was how Santana's second album was written.

Around year three, her second album was released. It went platinum before it was even released.

Santana moved to L.A. to work with some collabs for her third album and for a couple of features on some of her friends' albums. Year three was the worst of all. She got into pain killers after her grandmother died, and Santana's last moment with her was full of insults thrown her way. _Eres una desgracia a la familia Lopez. ¡Sal de mi casa, hija del demonio! ¡No quiero volver a ver tu cara de pendeja más nunca!_

Her father didn't know how to look at her after that without feeling sorry for her, and true to her grandmother's wishes, she made herself scarce at family events, but she talked to her mother at least once a week.

She had more night stands than most stars, her only salvation was her music and Kurt, Rachel and Quinn.

She also got into alcohol, (more than before) and got high almost daily.

Also, she dated one of the Victoria's Secret models, Cara Delevigne, for about a year. Santana liked her after her performance of the Fashion Show, they hooked up and things went from there, but Santana's habits took over and she cheated. Well, she _kissed_ someone else and Cara went batshit crazy and trashed her baby, a custom Mustang GT. It was safe to say it was over between them.

A couple of months later, Santana was back in New York in her loft in Brooklyn with a dog, whom she named Killer because, well, he was a German Sheperd. Kurt and Blaine had gotten him for her as a 'welcome home' present. She had to admit, the puppy was rather cute. And he cuddled her at night so she wasn't complaining.

* * *

The day that changed her life forever was a Saturday. It started like any normal weekend for her. She woke up, lazed around her loft until midday until Killer started complaining in his own way, (barking like a crazy then running up to her and tackling her to the couch, and it hurts a little because he's around six months old, standing almost to her hip already), she gets dressed after a couple of slobber kisses, she really loves that dog, to go out to Central Park. She grabbed a tennis ball and a towel, put Killer's leash on him before stepfont out of her loft.

She commands Killer to sit then hails a cab. A minute later, one pulls up and she puts the towel on the floor and tells Killer to get in and sit on top of it. Then she slides into the seat and tells the cabbie to take her to Central Park.

A little over half an hour later, they pull up on the west side of the park, she tips generously, as usual when she takes Killer to Central Park, and they walk over to the Meadow. There, she lays the towel on the floor before she takes Killer's leash off and throwing the tennis ball as hard as she can. She watches her dog take off in the direction of the ball with a small smile on her face that generally only appears when seeing her dog playing. (Even though he's huge, and standing on two legs he's taller than her, she can't help but find him utterly adorable.)

She repeats throwing him the ball a couple of times before sitting down and watching him run around the grass. She snaps a picture of him running towards her and posts it on her twitter, writing 'my baby's all grown up.'

He lays down beside her, and she says, "Tired already, huh?" Killer looks over at her before licking her cheek and takes off. She groans and cleans herself with the towel. Then she hears loud squeal from the direction that Killer had taken off to, and she looks up to see a little boy, no more than two years old, hugging her dog's neck tightly. She stands up and walks over to them, her dog barking when he notices her, and the boy looks at her.

She almost stumbles when she sees his dark blue eyes that are just a shade away from Brittany's. He has the biggest grin on his face, that again reminds her of Brittany. Before she can open her mouth to ask for his mom, a voice she thought she'd never hear again out to the little boy, "Jack!"

Santana turns around and, ten feet away, is the love of her life, Brittany S. Pierce in all her glory. _She looks even better_, Santana thinks. The expression on Brittany's face is pure shock and the ring of her left hand finger has Santana smiling sadly at her. "Hey," she says to the blonde, then to Killer, "Sit."

"You look good. Come here, baby." Santana nods, and for a second she thinks Brittany is talking to her before the little boy, _Jack_, passes by her and attaches himself to his mother's leg. This is when Santana notices the bump in Brittany's stomach.

"You too. I always knew pregnancy would look good on you, and motherhood." Brittany smiles at her, Santana's heart clenches in her chest at the sight and to avoid it, she crouches to the boy's level, and smiles herself. "Hi, I'm Santana, and this is my dog, Killer. I'm friends with your mommy."

"I know. Aunt Q and Auntie Rachy talk about you with my mommy. I'm Jack," he answers in his little boy voice.

"Really?" She looks up to Brittany, who has a sheepish expression on her face. And from Santana's view, the sun is shining just at the right angle to make Brittany's skin glow in a way that made her look so damn beautiful.

"They do. I like your dog, he looks just like the one I asked my daddy for."

"Thank you. He is pretty handsome, aren't you, boy?" Santana runs a hand over Killer's head lovingly. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, Brittany and it was awesome to meet a handsome little boy like you, Jack, but I gotta run. I'm actually meeting Quinn now," she says while standing up and smiling forcefully, the mentioning of Sam dampened her mood. She absentmindedly strokes Killer's head.

"It was nice seeing you, San," she internally flinches at the nickname, "I hope to see you again."

"For sure," Santana nods, eager to get away because her heart is clenching painfully in her chest at the thought of how this was their dream. The dog, the kids, the house, the _happiness_ that was supposed to be their lives,_ together._

Santana smiles one last time before turning around, and walking away. She thinks she might just cry a little tonight.

* * *

AN: Yes, no? Let me know.

**Disclaimer: I, in no way, own Glee, the characters or the brands mentioned here.**

Also, the song mentioned to be part of Santana's music is originally The Neighbourhood's, and just for the sake of the story, is her's.


	2. Chapter 2: Revelations

AN: Didn't expect the reception my story got, especially this many follows! Thank you. And especially to the reviewer that said I'll be good writer. Thank you for feeding my incredibly large ego. Also, to the one in tears, that's the goal.

In case some of you were wondering, you can PM me for any doubts.

Also, I forgot the translations for the last chapter: _Eres una desgracia a la familia Lopez. Sal de mi casa, hija del demonio! No quiero ver tu cara de pendeja mas! = _You're a disgrace to the Lopez family. Get out of my house, daughter of the devil! I don't want to ever see your stupid (pendeja is actually a Latin insult so translations may vary) face again!

Right, and Kurt's job is at Vogue .com for some reason it didn't appear. I think that's the only error, but please bear with me, I don't have a beta reader.

Now, onto the story. Enjoy.

* * *

Quinn Fabray was an incredibly loyal friend. Yes, she may have fucked her best friend's ex, her then-boyfriend's best friend and then got pregnant, but really she was a saint for dealing with an overly emotional Latina that denied everything the next morning.

It had been a month or so after Santana had seen Brittany for the first time in four years. Quinn had just finished talking with Brittany on the phone when Santana (along with that horse she called a dog) barreled into her apartment in the Upper East Side. Santana, it was safe to say, was a mess. Crying and babbling non-stop that would rival those monologues of her wife, Rachel Berry. Something about _She's pregnant and not mine. I can't believe she actually named her son Jack._ And Quinn didn't really understand the last part. She had just slapped the brunette across the face and told her to get it together.

* * *

Santana took that advice literally and never mentioned Brittany after that.

One spring morning, Santana walked into one of the many Master Records (it became very wealthy after signing Santana) and met up with her agent/publicist, Jamie Garcia. The two had bonded over being Latinas and having puertorrican roots.

"Hey, Santana. Come on, we're almost late for our meeting with the big guns," Jamie said just as she was walking in the door. Santana nodded and sped up her pace into the studio, which held the meeting. The president of the company, a man named Tim Simmons, was pretty laid back, and never discriminated Santana over her obvious sexuality. He actually embraced it.

"Lopez! Come on, I want to hear what new stuff you got for me," Tim said once he spotted the singer coming in. She chuckled and shook her head a little.

"Actually, I don't want to be a solo act anymore. I want to make a band. Since I have a five album contract with you guys, I thought I could make the last three as, well, a band," Santana explained to her boss, who looked like he liked the idea.

"Always pushing boundaries, I see. Everybody starts as bands, then solo acts and you do things backwards. Surpassing expectations. I love it!" He said with a booming voice and a grin on his face. Then seriously he added, "I'll come back next week, I expect to see you with your band, singing me a new song, for the album. If I like it, then we'll go with your idea."

"Thank you, sir. We'll be ready by then," Santana answered with a satisfied smile on her face. Once her boss went out the door, she turned to her agent and queried, "do you know any bass players?"

"Um, let me make a few calls and I'll get back to you," Jamie said and left the studio. Santana picked up her phone and dialed a number that she got familiar with a year ago.

"He said yes! You need to catch a flight here tomorrow. We got a song to write."

* * *

The next day, Santana drove her Mustang to the airport. Once parked on a no-parking zone, she dialed Puck's number. He picked a couple of rings later.

"You here?"

"Yeah, I'm outside JetBlue's baggage claim," she said into the receiver before ending the call when he answered, staring at the double doors. Puck came barreling out a minute later carrying two duffel bags. He grinned when she stepped out, popped the trunk then walked over to him and took one of his bags. "Damn, you moving in or what?" She teased.

"Nah, just until I find a good place to make old Puckster a bachelor pad," he answered as he side hugged her. She shook her head, chuckling.

"Better not. You'll scare away the ladies," she grinned as they both put Puck's bags on her trunk. Puck went over to the driver side. "No, no, no. That is my baby and you will never drive her."

Puck pouted dramatically before going over to the passenger side and got in. "Just hear that purr," he sighed with a dreamy grin on his face. He then looked at Santana, already strapped in and smiling.

"Yeah, that's Betty for you."

"Betty? Like your song?" Puck asked with his head tilted and brow furrowed. Santana nodded.

"Yeah, I wrote that song before buying her, and it stuck," she shrugged.

"I always wondered what that song was about."

"It's just a song, Puck. I needed sixteen songs for _Flawless_ so it made the cut," she said, not completely convincing him but he dropped it.

"Hey, did you and Quinn make a party for me tonight?" He asked with a smirk, and he saw Santana match it.

"Well, Fabgay and the Hobbit wanted a dinner with friends, but don't worry. I took into my hands to plan the after-party," she said with a laugh, and they fist bumped.

"That's the Lopez I know and love."

* * *

The Fabray-Berry apartment was packed with all of the Glee club members that lived in the city when Puck and Santana walked in. Rachel strolled over to them with a too-big grin that frankly scared Santana. _Maybe Quinn has a weird fetish for troll__, _Santana thought with a smirk.

"Santana, Noah. Glad you could make it."

"Sorry we're late. Miss Fame here got flooded with paparazzi outside her loft."

"And, Puck here, thought it'd be cool to be pose for pictures."

Rachel shook her head at the obvious love those had for each other, brother-sister kind. Quinn called from the kitchen, almost shouting over the lounge music, that probably was Hobbit's doing, "dinner's ready!"

The three chuckled and made their way to the dining room, and the wind was knocked out of Santana's lungs at the sight of Sam, with his arm around Brittany's shoulder, laughing at one of Blaine's jokes, or stories. Those two had gotten really close in their senior year. Santana smiled forcefully to everyone before going into the kitchen.

"Quinn, I can't believe you!" Santana hissed under her breath, hoping no one from the other room could hear her.

"Rachel thought it'd be good to see everyone, and I mean, everyone from the Glee Club. That includes them," Quinn explained, like she would a toddler. She was practicing her mother voice for the child growing in Rachel's womb.

"You could have at least told me she was coming!"

"I'm sorry, but you need to move on. It's been four years, Santana," the blonde said, taking a pan from the oven, before adding, "Grab the plates and the silverware, will you?"

Santana nodded, and did as asked. "Can you and I open that bottle of scotch in your office when we bring this out? I'm gonna need a drink if I'm to survive this night."

"You lived with Kurt and Rachel for too long, you've become dramatic in epic proportions," Quinn teased her good naturedly, but nodded in answer. They went in the dining room, and Quinn put the chicken in the middle of the table, and Santana gave the plates to Puck.

"Be good for something and pass these out," she told him and he rolled his eyes. Santana gestured Quinn to follow her to the blonde's office. Quinn led her to it, and opened the bottom drawer in her desk.

"I was saving for something important, I guess now's a good moment as any. Rachel's pregnant," she said as she opened the almost fifty year old bottle. Santana gasped, grinning wildly.

"Q, I'm happy for you, and Rachel," she said, softly, but then added, "I'm the godmother, right? Do I have to compete Porcelain for it?"

* * *

After a few glasses each, under ten minutes and maybe a few happy tears on Quinn's front, they both walked out and sat at the table.

"What were you two up to?" Rachel asked them both, clearly missing her wife. _Hormones_, Santana shuddered.

"Nada," Santana shrugged, and saw Quinn murmur something into her wife's ear. Rachel nodded and smiled at the Latina. "So, actually, me and Puck have some news for you guys."

Kurt, being the internal gossip addict, clapped his hands together and said, "Do tell." His husband smiled at him.

"You all know how Santana has to release a new album by the end of the year, right?" Puck asked everyone at the table, waiting for their nods. "Well, when San here came to LA, we ran into each other at a strip club-"

"That's a story for another time," Santana interjected, squirming in her seat under Brittany's stare. She cleared her throat.

"Anyways, we ran into each other, got talking and we were drunk and decided to be in a band together. So, long story short, I'm in New York because San propositioned her boss that she didn't want to be a solo act anymore. We made a band," he said, smirking wildly.

"You have any songs written yet? Because I have some great ideas that-"

"Berry, you suck at song writing," both Puck and Santana said at the same time. Everyone laughed.

"But she did write that song that almost won us Nationals," Sam commented, with an easy smile, and his voice was like a cold bucketful of water was emptied over Santana's head. She had forgotten he was here. She was distracted by the easy banter with her friends.

"It's true. My baby can write great songs," Quinn answered with ease, leaning into Rachel to put a gentle kiss to her cheek. It was safe to say Rachel resembled a tomato.

"Ew, we're trying to eat here," Puck said as he practically wolfed the chicken Quinn made and the salad Rachel made.

"You seem to have no problem with that, Puck," Kurt commented while Brittany laughed quietly, seeing Santana do the same. Both friends shrugged.

"Actually, speaking of the band, I need to call James, he's still in England and I think I have to pick him up tomorrow," Santana said to Puck, after a few minutes of everyone silently eating. She got up from her seat, taking her phone out her pocket before exiting the room.

"Who's James?" Santana heard Brittany asked Puck as she left the room.

* * *

About an hour later, and too many wine bottles (except Rachel and Brittany), the karaoke was pulled out that Quinn swore through and through she had given away.

"Santana, why don't you sing us one of your songs?" Sam said, almost challenging her, after he finished his (awful, in Santana's opinion) redemption of KISS's I Was Made For Lovin' You. Really could this kid be any more stupid? Don't challenge Satan at her game. Santana nodded with a smirk and saw Quinn, Rachel and Kurt shake their heads.

"Alright, let me grab the guitar that Berry keeps even though she can't play," she answered and went to grab it. They had moved to the living room, which was basically the biggest room in the apartment. She grabbed the guitar from it's stand next to the tv, how Quinn allowed it there was beyond Santana. Probably sex favors or something. She tested the strings, then started strumming a familiar tune.

**_You were standing with your girlfriends in the street,_**

_**falling back on forever, I wonder what you came to be,**_

_**I was new in town, the girl with eager eyes,**_

_**I never was a quitter, oblivious to schoolgirls' lies**_

Santana sang softly to the room, looking down at the fingers strumming the acoustic guitar.

_**When I look back on those neon nights,**_

_**the leather seats, the passage rite,**_

_**I feel the heat, I see the light**_

_**Miss Atomic Bomb, **_

_**making out, we got the radio on**_

_**You're gonna miss me when I'm gone,**_

_**You're gonna miss me when I'm gone**_

Santana lifted her gaze from the guitar to look around at her friends' faces. Puck with a massive grin on his face, clearly missing seeing her perform, same as Blaine. Quinn and Kurt with matching sad, understanding smiles. Rachel with one of her weird smiles on her face, swaying to the music in her seat next to Quinn. Sam was frowning, tightening his hold on Brittany's shoulder, and the blonde had the brightest grin on her face.

_**Racing shadows in the moonlight,**_

_**through the desert on a hot night,**_

_**and for a second there we'd won,**_

_**yeah, we were innocent and young**_

As she sang the third and fourth line, she held Brittany's gaze, and she didn't look away.

_**Cast out of the night, well you've got a foolish heart**_

_**So you took your place but the fall from grace was the hardest part**_

_**It feels just like a dagger buried deep in your back**_

_**You run for cover but you can't escape the second attack**_

_**Your soul was innocent, she kissed him and she painted it black**_

_**You should have seen your little face, burnin' for love**_

_**Holdin on' for your life**_

_**All that I wanted was a little touch,**_

_**A little tenderness and truth, I didn't ask for much, no**_

_**Talk about being at the wrong place at the wrong time…**_

Santana slowly brought down the song, strumming more softly, until she brought it down with a smooth landing. She smiled at her friends' and Sam and Brittany, they weren't her friends. Puck stood up and clapped her shoulder.

"We are going to rock this. Our album is going to blow away everyone. Right, guys?" Puck said into the room and everyone nodded eagerly, except Sam. He hadn't looked away from the brunette standing in the middle of the room with a guitar over her shoulder. Santana cleared her throat, and put the guitar back.

* * *

"Is that a new song or from one of your albums?" Brittany's voice said into the kitchen, startling the only occupant who was putting the dishes away as Quinn was putting Rachel to bed, who had fallen asleep on her shoulder right after Santana sung.

"Um, yeah. I wrote for the new one, actually. It's not finished yet," Brittany nodded at the answer, knowing well which songs were on the Latina's albums. She may have heard them over and over again some time.

"Is it about me?" The Latina took a deep breath at the bold question, but nodded, already used to the blonde's lack of mind-to-mouth filter. "When did you start writing it?"

"A week after I saw you at the park," Santana admitted, turning to face the blonde. "I can't believe you named your son _with him_ Jack."

Brittany glanced at her feet before answering, "When I heard it was a boy, I couldn't think of any other way to name him."

"But we said that would be the name of _**our**_son," the brunette retaliated, silently cursing herself for starting this. She was drunk and tired and Brittany was _ everywhere. _

"Britt-Britt, come on, let's go! Your sister called and said Jack keeps waking up and calling for you," Sam said, walking into the kitchen, sending a glare Santana's way before turning to the blonde. The woman nodded before grabbing his arm and walking away with a 'bye, San' thrown over her shoulder. The Latina was fuming and threw the first thing she thought of, which was the plate in her hand, into the floor. It shattered to pieces at her feet, _just like the heart she made me show_, she thought. _God, I'm so fucking pathetic._

* * *

Once again, thank you for the response to this story.

Hope you like this chapter, and if you have a minute to spare, please review. It helps to hear your thoughts on the story.


	3. Chapter 3: Control

AN: Okay, it's awesome that so many people like the story. Thank you, and I'm sorry in advance for answering a somewhat unpleasant review through here, but it's the only way.

To the guest that said that my story is somewhat 'Brittany is an angel', well, no. I'm actually Team Lopez through and through, but no, I will not stop with my "ridiculous story."

Onto the story then. Enjoy.

* * *

Noah Puckerman woke up with a start in an unfamiliar room, groaning almost instantly at the pulsing it brought to his head, but already used to it after countless mornings having the same problem.

He briefly wondered what the noise was, but he was preoccupied looking for some pills or something. He wandered into the kitchen, having come back to him that he was in fact, in Santana's loft. How they got here after the club they went to (granted it was for fifteen minutes after Santana demanded to leave, a blonde in tow), he didn't know, but he wasn't complaining, after he checked that his dick was still attached of course.

He didn't expect was he saw when he walked into the kitchen.

* * *

"What the fuck, Santana!" The tall man exclaimed once he took in the sight. Santana was heaving, broken coffee cup on the floor, coffee all over her clothes, kitchen island and floor.

"I-I'm just so fucking mad, you know? Jack was supposed to be mine," she shrugs, "Not that Aquaman wanna be."

"What?" Puck said, confused and not-being able to keep up with her rambling.

"You remember when me and Brittany just dropped off the face of the Earth spring break senior year?" He nodded. "Well, we were watching Disney movies," Puck rolled his eyes, "And I refused to watch any animated ones and..."

* * *

_Brittany tried to wiggle out of her girlfriend's grasp. "San, stop it!"_

_"No! I'm not letting you go until you agree to watch Pirates of the Caribbean," Santana said, almost breathlessly as Brittany subconsciously pressed her hips into hers'. _

_"Fine, as long as you don't drool over Keira Knightley."_

_"But she's hot." The Latina answered with a pout, just as Brittany was turning in her arms, pressing their fronts together in the couch at the blonde's house._

_"Hotter than me?"_

_"No one," her girlfriend said with ease and almost instantly. "You know I'll never look at other women like I do you, right?"_

_"I like the reassurance," the blonde answered, staring into brown, sparkling eyes. "I love you," she said before pressing her lips into the other girl's fuller one. She moaned quietly at the instant returned action when she felt Santana press her lips harder into hers. Brittany's hands came to Santana's face to cup her cheeks, stroking the skin lovingly with her thumbs, while Santana's hands placed themselves on the blonde's ribs, pressing their torsos together. The brunette ran the tip of her tongue over the blonde's bottom lip, being granted immediate access to her mouth, she wasted no time in starting a battle over dominance with her girlfriend over the kiss. _

_"Marry me, one day," she whispered into Brittany's mouth when she broke the kiss, her thumbs running in the underside of her girlfriend's boobs. Their gazes never breaking apart._

_"Any day," the blonde answered, "Will we have kids?"_

_"Of course. Mini yous running around our home as I yell at them to not break anything," she said quietly, like it were a secret as she pressed their foreheads together. "We'll name our girl something beautiful, so she can resemble her mother even more."_

_"And, we'll name our boy after someone just like their mama. Fierce, brave, and maybe a little crazy," Brittany said, with a couple of giggles that turned into shrieks once the girl on top of her started tickling her sides._

_"I have to be, so I can keep up with you," Santana said, then asked, "What would his name?"_

_"Jack Sparrow, just like your favorite Disney character," Brittany answered with ease. "From the movies that you secretly watch over and over again, just like me with Lion King."_

_"Maybe just Jack," the brunette said with a smile. "And what about our girl?"_

_"Simple. Belle." Brittany said in all seriousness._

_"How about Audrey?"_

_"I like that."_

* * *

"So, wait. You planned your kids ahead? Like almost ten years," he asked, with his brow furrowed. She shrugged.

"It made sense to us," she answered, stroking Killer's head. He had wandered in the kitchen after he had ran to her bedroom after Santana smashed the coffee cup.

"Clearly," he nodded slowly, still not comprehending.

"Anyways, she named her kid Jack. I don't know why she did it, but she probably has a good reason," she shrugs, just as her phone's starts to ring. "Hey, Jamie," she answers, then Puck sees her face break out into a huge grin, "Really? Awesome! When do you need us there?" Jamie must have said something along the line of 'Puck's there already' because she says, "Yeah, he's here, and we'll meet you there." She hangs up after that.

"Where are we going?" He asks.

"Burger shop near the studio, Jamie found a bass player with killer vocals, and she wants to meet us," she said, then added, "Go shower and get dressed."

* * *

About an hour later, Santana pulled up her Mustang in front one of her favorite burger shops in New York, that sold the best burgers ever, called The Place. She killed the engine, and her and Puck simultaneously got out of the car, and went in. She spotted her agent at the back, and dragged Puck over to her.

"Jamie, this is Puck. My friend from high school with some mad skills on the guitar," she introduced Puck to her agent, the man child had a dreamy look on his face. She couldn't blame him. With dirty blonde hair, dark eyes and toned body, her agent was a looker. Puck composed himself.

"Taught her everything she knows. I'm Noah," he said as he offered her his hand. Santana shook her head, knowing Puck obviously liked her.

"Blasphemy! Learned everything from you, my ass," Santana joked as they sat down.

"You guys banter like little girls," Jamie said with a laugh, "Oh, there's Hailey. Hailey, over here!" Santana turned around and widen her eyes. The girl, no more than twenty-three years old, was drop dead gorgeous. With light brown hair, and striking dark green eyes, she walked over to them with a smile and sat down across the still-stunned Latina. She laughed. "Guys, this is Hailey, she's a friend of my sister's. She came into mind when you said you wanted a bass player, Santana."

The Latina shook herself out of stupor, before smiling her flirty smile, "I'm Santana Lopez."

"I know, big fan. You're all kinds of crazy hot," the girl admitted, before blushing furiously and Puck elbowed her. She shot him a glare, before returning her gaze to her.

"I could say the same about you," she threw back at Hailey before winking.

"Okay, let's get down to business," Jamie said, clearly used to Santana's promiscuous ways. "When's James getting here?"

"Should be here by tonight. He was visiting family, some aunt had her kid or something like that," Santana answered.

"Who's James?" Hailey asked, with a furrowed brow.

"My drummer on tours. We got close, so when Puck suggested a band, he's the only one I would want drumming away in it," the Latina said with breathy laugh.

"Okay, then I'll book studio time tomorrow to see how you guys flow together. Santana, you'll be playing the guitar with Puck, right?"

"Yeah, on most songs. Some I'll just sing, though. Puck can be my back-up singer. Can you sing, Hailey?"

"I can harmonize for you, yeah, though I'm not the greatest singer," the girl said, shrugging.

"Perfect, then, it's all settled, Jamie?" The Latina asked her agent, who nodded, typing away on her phone. "Oh, Puck and I wrote the perfect song for Tim's hearing."

"What's it called?"

"Sex." Puck and Santana said at the same time with matching smirks. Jamie groaned, and Hailey laughed.

* * *

After the four had eaten their burgers, (Santana may have moaned in her first bite, and Puck may have slipped her a twenty after they had bet in favor of their favorite burgers) Puck left with Jamie, claiming he wanted to see the studio. Hailey had left to meet up with Jamie's sister, Alison. And Santana decided to go to Central Park and walk off all the burger.

She stopped in front of the pond, looking at the ducks and their awkward waddles. Smiling to herself, she sighed as she sat down in one of the benches. She didn't know how long she had stared at them when someone sat down next to her. She didn't think to much into it, until they had cleared their throat, awkwardly, before they simply said a greeting and Santana instantly knew who it was.

"Hey, Brittany," she said, not looking the blonde's way.

"Funny how we ran into each other twice in the same place," she commented, staring at the Latina's side.

"I guess. What do you want?"

"Just talk to you. I miss you," she answered, raising her hand to tuck Santana's hair behind her ear.

"You don't get to say that," Santana shook her head, "You never called back, or answered my texts for months, then I hear your back with Boy Wonder and _pregnant, _so you don't get to say that."

"I'm sorry, I know what I did was wrong, but I didn't know any other way," and _fuck, _Santana can hear the tell tale signs that Brittany's about to cry. "I just wanted you to happy, and have a girlfriend who wasn't the laughing stock wherever she went. I bet Dani wasn't like that."

"Brittany, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I didn't care about any of that, because _I loved you_ with everything I had, and you're a genius," Santana said, and shrugged, looking down at her hands. "Dani wasn't who I wanted, anyways. She could never measure up to you," she lifted her gaze to look into Brittany's eyes. The blonde shook her head, and wiped under her eyes. "I can only be your friend, you know."

"I know, marriage was always sacred to you," Brittany whispered, "He was just there. He was the easy choice, you know? He never made me feel the way you did, the way you do."

"Brittany, it's not fair of you to say these things," Santana shook her head and took a deep breath.

"I know that most songs you wrote were about me. My favorite's _Baby Came Home."_

"Why?" Santana asked, with her brow furrowed. Surprised that Brittany still knew her enough to know she was still her muse (most songs written for her third album were about her too) and the fact that _that _song was her favorite.

"Because you say I'm yours," Brittany said like it was the simplest thing, "And it gave me hope, you know. That maybe you still loved me."

Santana sighed, "It's still a sad song."

"Yeah, but I can picture you writing it, thinking about when you and Sam dueled over me. You wiped the stage with him, you know."

"I know," Santana said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Always so cocky," Brittany said with a grin.

"You loved it," Santana smirked as she looked into Brittany's eyes.

"Love, I love it."

* * *

AN: Wrote two chapters in one day. Having a free day does this.

Review if you can. All are welcome.


	4. Chapter 4: Alright

AN: It's sort of funny how none of you know what is actually going on.

Okay, I may be Team Lopez, but you guys have it all wrong. I favor Santana because I'm also a feisty, hot-headed Latina, so I sort of know where she comes from, and why she comes across how she does. All in due time will be explained.

The story is already outlined, so I can assure you, all of your doubts and concerns will be answered and figured out. Don't hate Brittany because it will all be explained. Her reasons for her actions. Now, onto the story. Enjoy.

* * *

It had been a week since she last Brittany, after she stuttered an excuse about feeding Killer or something. Santana was just blindsided about the blonde's comment. She couldn't believe how bold she had behaved. Flirting with a taken woman, what would her mother say? _Pecadora. Nunca debes interponerte en un matrimonio, _something probably along that line. Even if it was Brittany's. Whom she had said Santana was the happiest she had seen her. Maribel never failed to tell her whenever Cara was around.

Santana thought it was maybe time to get back in the game, seriously. She was twenty-three going on twenty-four, and the only relationships she's had was with her high school sweetheart and a psycho. A hot one, flexible too, but a psycho nonetheless. Santana thought that Hailey was a great catch, but Jamie had called her midweek to tell her that she couldn't get involved with the girl. It could be messy for the band. The Latina shrugged her off and said, "It's not worth it anyways." Jamie had also said that right after Tim's hearing, she was to go to LA to shoot the music video for her song, _Flawless_.

* * *

The band, who after a lot of fighting and cursing (also a few hundred dollars), the four had decided on Sinners With A Future for their name. Jamie, who by default became the band's manager, had liked it and James had wrote it on his drum kit. He was very smug about it. The foursome went into the studio, James carrying his sticks, Puck with a black electric guitar, Hailey with a red electric bass and Santana with her custom made left-handed blood red guitar.

Santana smiled at Tim, who was sitting on the other side of the glass, and nodded before starting the chords. Puck following her along with Hailey and James.

_**And this is how it starts**_  
_**Take your shoes off in the back of my van**_  
_**Yeah my shirt looks so good,**_  
_**When it's just hanging off your back**_  
_**An she said use your hands in my spare time**_  
_**We've got one thing in common, it's this tongue of mine**_  
_**She said**_  
_**She's got a boyfriend anyway**_

Santana stares at her fingers, working the chords, as she sings the words she had practiced over fifty times the last week.

_**It's only minutes before I drop you off**_  
_**All we seem to do is talk about sex**_  
_**She's got a boyfriend anyway**_  
_**She's got a boyfriend anyway**_

_**I loved your friend when I saw his film  
He's got a funny face  
But I like that 'cause he still looks cool  
She's got a boyfriend anyway  
She's got a boyfriend anyway**_

She looks up to Tim, who's got a grin on his face, then glances to Jamie, giving her a thumbs up. Santana winks before singing into the microphone, getting into the song.

_**Now we're on the bed in my room**_  
_**And I'm about to fill his shoes**_  
_**But you say no**_  
_**You say no**_  
_**Does he take care of you**_  
_**Or could I easily fill his shoes?**_  
_**But you say no**_  
_**You say no**_

_**And now we're just outside of town  
And you're making your way down  
She's got a boyfriend anyway  
She's got a boyfriend anyway**_

She frowns, thinking back at the moment she got inspiration for this song, before shaking her head.

_**And I'm not trying to stop you love  
If we're gonna do anything we might as well just fuck  
She's got a boyfriend anyway  
She's got a boyfriend anyway**_

You've got your tongue pierced anyway  
You're in your high tops any day  
You're in your skinny jeans anyway  
You and your fit friends anyway  
I'd take them all out any day  
They've all got backcombs anyway  
You've all got boyfriends anyway

She strums out the last chord, before grinning. Turning to Puck, she high-fives him, knowing they got this in the bag. They watch Tim go in the studio, "I love the idea! Start writing songs for your first album, guys. Sinners With A Future are going big!"

* * *

That night, Santana and Puck get into her Mustang to go to the Fabray-Berry apartment, for a small, intimate dinner. They talk about some song ideas they have, firing back and forth suggestions.

"'Rocking like gorillas'? Are you a neanderthal, Puckerman?"

"Oh, tell me you've never had rough sex? This song could be good," he says.

Santana rolls her eyes, before firing back, "It sounds ridiculous, but write the whole thing and we'll see, yeah?" Puck grins in triumph.

"Are you writing a sappy song?"

"Fuck you, I don't just write sappy songs."

"Lopez, your second album was called 'the best break-up album.'"

"You're such a pussy for knowing that."

* * *

"Honey, I'm back. Hide your secret lover!" Santana said into the apartment that seemed to play endless lounge music.

"Aren't you a comedian?" Quinn says, rolling her eyes as she steps into the threshold, taking the bottle of wine from Puck's hand. She smiles sweetly at him, "Thank you."

"How's my goddaughter?" Santana queries with a grin on her face. So far, she and Puck were the only ones who knew.

"Follow me, Rachel's in the couch," Quinn says, but in falls on deaf ears because Santana steps around her and into the living room.

"Hey, San," the pregnant woman greets her friend, amused at her excitement.

"How's the baby?" The taller brunette asks as she sits next to Rachel, taking in her pregnant that she couldn't help but note that Brittany lacked. _Stop it_, she chastises herself.

"Good, just wouldn't let me keep the food down," Rachel says, watching her hands as they run over still-flat stomach.

"So, I'm the godmother, right?" Rachel rolls her eyes at the question before nodding.

"And Kurt the godfather."

"More like gayfather," Santana says, chuckling.

"You're gay too," Rachel comments, and Santana nods.

"Hey, Rachel, I need your help, um, I ran into Brittany last week and we got talking, and she said some things that confused me," Santana sighs, frowning deeply, looking at her friend, who looks pensive.

"What things?"

"Just that she misses me and that Sam doesn't make her feel the same as I do."

"Santana, I can't tell you what she meant by it, but don't get your hopes up," Rachel expresses before standing up and beckoning her over to the dining room where the four old friends shared a lovely dinner.

* * *

Santana pulled her aviator sunglasses over her eyes before stepping out of LAX, carrying her over-sized duffel. She grabbed a cab, and it took her to her hotel, where she dropped her bag and purse, flopped on the California king bed and taking a long nap.

After she woke up, she freshen her face before going out to dinner. She liked eating by herself from time-to-time, gave her a little break from her fast-paced life.

She walked out of her hotel, shopped a bit, seeing as it was only four in the afternoon, before stepping into a small, casual restaurant that instantly made her smile. She looked around before seeing a familiar blonde head. She walked over to the woman, who also was eating alone, before saying, "Amber?"

The woman turned around and a big grin took over her face, "Santana, hey!" Amber Heard, the drop dead gorgeous actress said as she stood up and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl's neck. "What are you doing in LA? I remember you said you didn't like it here," she added with a breathy laugh.

"Filming a music video, you? I heard you were filming in Europe," Santana said, with a smile.

"I dropped out the movie, just wasn't my style. Are you alone? Wanna sit with me?" Amber asked in that sexy voice of hers that had Santana nodding eagerly. Amber laughed and unwrapped her arms and sat down again, Santana sat across from her.

"Why'd you drop out? Really?" Santana asked, after she ordered a burger off the menu.

"Honestly, working with an ex," Amber said with a shrug.

"You mean, that photographer chick?"

"No, Johnny Depp."

"What? You dated him? Nice," Santana said with a laugh. Amber playfully glared at her.

"Yeah, we were both each other's rebounds, you know? After dating Tasya for so long, I just don't why I dated such an older man," Amber rambled, looking down at her plate before chuckling, Santana smiled coyly.

"What about a younger woman?"

"What about one?" Amber asked, brow furrowed before tilting her head and arching her brow. "Are you talking about that night?"

"It was a good night. I really liked it," Santana kept smiling coyly. Amber shook her head. "Go on a date with me. Honestly, I'm way hotter than Tasya so I don't know the problem."

* * *

_Santana had been living in LA for about a month when a producer had asked her to record a few songs for some movie he was paying for. She agreed, and ended up having to visit one of the sets to get a feel for the movie so she could co-write the song for it. She stood by the producer, Gordon, when a blonde came in wearing a robe. She instantly took Santana's breath away._

_"Who's that?" She asked Gordon, not looking away from the blonde who now was sitting on a bed, **Oh, God, it's a sex** **scene, **Santana thought._

_"Amber Heard, she's been in a couple of movies. This is her first big role, though."_

_"Oh, yeah. From Stepfather, right?"_

_"Yeah. That one. Now, as I was saying, I think you should write a sexy song..."_

* * *

_"Hey, that was some pretty good acting," Santana said as she approached the blonde. "Very convincing."_

_"Oh, you think, because I thought I was a bit rusty, actually," Amber said, biting her lip. _

_"No, it was perfect. So, I'm writing the song for the movie and the producer has me watching the scenes to, you know, get the feel of it, and I thought that maybe you and I could get a drink after this? To get to know each other better," Santana flirted, trying to act nonchalantly while Amber tried to hide her smile._

_"Why not? I could use the distraction," she said, and Santana grinned._

* * *

"I mean, I know nothing happened, but I liked you," Santana said, honestly. "Even though you ran away from me when I kissed you."

"Look, Santana, you're really sweet and yeah, I liked you too but I was in a relationship," Amber explained, before smirking, "Now I'm not."

"So, how about that date?"

"We are in one."

* * *

Santana opened the door to her room, dragging Amber in with her. After the door closed, she pushed her into door, attaching her lips the blonde's neck, receiving a delicious moan in return. The Southern beauty took the Latina's face in her hands before crashing their lips together in a kiss that was sloppy and full of lust. Tongues danced together, teeth clashed. Santana's left hand wandered down between the blonde's legs, under her dress.

"Don't tease and fuck me already."

* * *

AN: Glad so many people like my story. Overwhelmed by the response.

Review if you can, want or are just in the mood. They are welcomed and appreciated, any or all, good or bad. (Feeding my ego helps with faster updates; just dropping that there.)

Thank you for reading.


	5. Chapter 5: Hello

AN: Glad most of you liked the last chapter.

And all of you should thank me because I left Skyrim to post this for you.

Onto the story. Enjoy.

* * *

Santana awoke the next day with no circulation on her left arm and she was actually content. Maybe it's because she actually liked Amber. She sighed happily as she ran her fingertips over the blonde's bare back. She stirred and tighten her hold on Santana's stomach.

"Hey."

"Hi," the brunette replied, dropping a kiss to her forehead, just as Amber looked up to her.

"How long are you staying?" Amber asked, shifting until she laid over the Latina, chin to her chest.

"Until Wednesday next week. I'm here to film a music video for _Flawless_, then I'm off to New York," Santana answered, shrugging her shoulders and running her fingers over Amber's sex hair. _Yeah, I did that, _Santana thought smugly.

"Oh," Amber frowned and sat up, giving Santana her back.

"Hey, what is it?" Santana mimicked her, cupping the blonde's cheek to turn her head to face her. She smiled softly. "Tell me."

"It's just I thought this wasn't a one night thing..."

"It will be whatever you want it to be," Santana chimed in, running the pad of her thumb over Amber's cheekbone.

"I want you," Amber said after a moment. She glanced at her hands on her lap, then pressed her lips to Santana's. "Will you go out with me this week?" Santana just nodded.

* * *

All throughout the week, she and Amber went all over LA. They went out to all of Amber's favorite restaurants and places. They held hands, they kissed in public, they smiled at each other, they were a normal couple. Amber even catered to Santana. She opened doors for her, always made her feel special and Santana loved it.

Santana filmed her music video in between her dates with Amber, and she was genuinely happy. The happiest since high school.

* * *

Quinn picked her up on Wednesday afternoon. Santana carried her duffel on one shoulder, bag in the other as she texted Amber that she had arrived in New York, safe and sound. She laughed at Amber's response, a picture of her pouting, saying _Miss you already. _

"Is that Amber? She's hot," Quinn queried when Santana got close enough. She took the Latina's duffel and threw it on the back seat of her new Range Rover. Being a lawyer had it's perks, being a soon-to-be mother had its responsibilities.

"What? How do you know about Amber?" Santana asked, cocking her head in question. Quinn chuckled.

"Really? You two have been all over the magazines," Quinn replied with a shake of her head and got in the driver side. Santana slid into the passenger seat.

"And how would you know?" The Latina had her brow arched. Quinn blushed.

"You know how Rachel likes to be informed," she said, already out en route to Manhattan. Santana laughed loudly as she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, that was her," she nodded, smiling goofily.

"Tell me about her."

"She's just so gorgeous, you know. And she makes me laugh, and makes me feel wanted, not as a celebrity, but as a person. A normal person," she shrugs. "She's also kind of perfect and it helps that she's flexible."

"Santana! God, always so crude," Quinn shakes her head.

"Always so prude."

* * *

"Killer! Baby, where are you?" Santana called into her loft, grinning widely when she sees her dog charging towards her from her bedroom. He stands on two legs, placing his front paws on her shoulders and licks her face all over. "Aw, I missed you too, buddy. Did Puck take good care of you?" She ran her hands all over his head, scratching behind his ears, a secret tickle spot to get him to let her go. She chuckled as she threw her duffel and bag on the couch.

"Damn it, Santana. I was trying to beat my high score!" Puck said, coming out of the guest room with a headset on. Santana shook her head.

"I'm going out to get something to eat, wanna come?"

"The Place?"

"You know it."

"Let's go," Puck said throwing his head set in the general direction of the guest room.

* * *

"Two bacon cheeseburgers, two orders of fries and two cokes, thanks," Puck said, handing the waitress the menus.

"What? No winks, no innuendos? Are you feeling ok?" Santana teased with a smirk. Puck shook his head. "Do I know her?"

"Yeah, its Jamie. We've been dating for the past few weeks," he said, nodding.

"Don't fuck it up. I actually like my agent," Santana threatened. Puck shook his head with a smile.

"I won't, but hey, nice catch," he smirked, then shook his head.

"What is it?" Santana asked, following Puck's eye and finding out for herself. She frowned, then stood up, following Brittany out the shop. "Brittany! Brittany! Hey, are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh, hey, Santana. I'm fine," she said quickly, jumping slightly when Santana put her hand on her forearm.

"Brittany, tell me what's wrong. You don't act like this, jumping and not looking me in the eye. What are you afraid of?" Santana whispered the question, worried about the woman in front of her, who's currently clutching her bag in front of her chest, like it will protect her.

Before Brittany could answer, Sam's too-sweet voice cut in, "Babe, why'd you run away?" He asked as he slid his arm around the blonde's waist and Santana saw her flinch ever-so slightly. "Santana, you can leave now," he added coldly, glaring at her. She dropped her hand from the woman's forearm.

"You know you can call me whenever you need to, ok, Britt? I'll help you," the Latina said to the blonde, ignoring Sam. She saw him tighten his fingers on her waist. Brittany nodded and just like that, they turned away from her and walked away. Santana frowned, deep-in-thought in the middle of the sidewalk.

* * *

A month later, Santana stood in the middle of her kitchen, cooking dinner for her friends. The doorbell rang and she called out, "Kurt, the door!" She always told Kurt to get the door ever since they lived together, Kurt would always huff but answer anyways.

"Hello, and you are?" She heard Kurt's voice then an answer she couldn't make out. She shrugged and checked the sauce. She was cooking chicken carbonara pasta. One of the few things she could make. It was all finished so she called out to her friends. They all predictably came like moths to flames expect Rachel.

"Who was at the door?" She asked a grinning Kurt, stepping around Quinn who was busy serving Rachel's plate.

"Me," Amber said from behind Puck, stepping around him. Santana grinned widely before wrapping her arms around the blonde's waist, Amber around her shoulders, "Hey, baby."

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Santana asked, leaning her head back to look into light green eyes. "Not that I'm complaining." They had been texting, calling, Skyping back and forth all throughout the month they had been apart.

"I got a part out here, and I couldn't say no," Amber said, shrugging then blushing when she met Quinn's stare. She unwrapped her arms from Santana's shoulders, who followed suit. "Hey, you must be Quinn, I'm Amber," Santana's girlfriend addressed the other blonde with a smile. Quinn narrowed her eyes, then smiled and nodded.

"I know who you are, this one won't shut up about you," she said, who made Santana blush and take Amber's hand in hers.

"Come on. I cooked," Santana said proudly, glaring at Quinn for a second, then leading Amber to the kitchen. Yeah, she can say she was very happy, but Brittany hadn't left her mind.

* * *

AN: I think this could be a filler, but I don't know what it is exactly.

Hope you like it, and this fic will be about 12 chapters more or less. Not going to into loads of details. And I left a little (big) and subtle (not really) clue about what Brittany's hiding.

Review if you want, feel like, or just because. Thanks.


	6. Chapter 6: Safe

AN: I would like to apologize for the last chapter. It looked super rushed, but I was feeling eh, when I wrote it. Sorry to those who didn't like it.

Now some of you are actually taking a whiff of things, and the why as to some things. But things in my story are different than the others with the same elements. (At least, all the ones I have read.)

There is a warning at the end of the chapter, if you need it, or get triggers of any kind. I don't want to give anything away.

Onto this chapter, who I hope makes up for the last. Enjoy.

* * *

The next day, Santana woke up, stretching her arms over her head with a sigh. She looked to her right and smiled at the blonde. She dropped a kiss to her shoulder, then got up and checked her phone as she walked out of her room.

"Santana, we need to talk," her friend called from the kitchen.

"What about, Q?" The Latina answered, not looking up from her phone, texting Hailey about rehearsals. She had her last solo show next Friday, which was four days later. She was supposed to sing five of the songs from her second album and she didn't know which, yet. Quinn, once Santana was close enough, grabbed her phone from her hand, and by the look in her eyes, Santana knew she was serious. "What is it? Is it Rachel or Kurt?"

Quinn shook her head, "Um, we think something's wrong with Brittany."

"Okay, what is it?"

"She's different, since the last time we saw her. I mean, she's more quiet, I can't see that passion in her eyes that she had before," Quinn said in the stools Santana had on her counter/bar, mirroring her friend.

"People grow up, Quinn. It's part of life. I mean, she's a mother. She had to grow up really quickly," she shrugged, grabbing an apple from the bowl and biting into it. She grimaced and spit it out. The apple was bad and Quinn giggled. Then turned serious again.

"I don't know, San, she's different."

"It's been four years," Santana quipped from the fridge, rummaging through it.

"Talk to her, please. For me," Quinn begged.

"Shouldn't her husband help with her problems? I mean, that's part of the deal."

"They're not married. Engaged," the blonde answered. "They've been for two years."

Santana poked her head out from behind the door with a piece of bread on her mouth. "That's cool then, but why can't he? I mean, I got stuff to do."

"Santana, I know that you think you don't care because you stopped loving her, but she was your friend, too. Your best friend," Quinn said as Santana crossed her hands, and looked away.

"Berry's my best friend," Quinn rolled her eyes.

"But not before. She was a huge part of her life, and I think you wouldn't forgive yourself if something was wrong," Quinn said as she got up and walked over to her. "Think about it."

* * *

"Hey, Santana. You remember that movie where we met?" Amber asked over breakfast, after Quinn leaved saying something about getting some vegan bacon type thing for Rachel. Guess the baby was pro-meat like their blonde mother. Santana nodded, taking a sip from her orange juice. "Well, the premiere is actually next month in LA, then the London premiere. I was thinking if you would be my date, to both."

"Yeah, of course. What do you want me to wear? Like what should I wear? Long dress or-?"

"Santana, calm down," Amber laughed, "Short dress for both of us?"

"Yeah, it's just, it's our first event going together and you know, I'm a bit nervous," Santana admitted, looking down at her lap.

"Hey, it's alright, because I'm nervous too. I want to show you off," Amber said as she sat down on Santana's lap.

"Yeah?" Santana glanced at Amber who ran her hands up the brunette's neck, smiling at her, to cup her jaw.

"Yes, and if it helps," she paused, biting her lip, "You're probably the hottest date I've had."

"That doesn't surprise me," Santana commented cockily, something that Amber adored. The singer ran her hands up the blonde's thighs as Amber leaned in to press their lips together.

* * *

"Um, hey, Brittany, it's me, Santana," she chuckled nervously, "I was just calling to see if you wanted to meet up and catch up or something, so call me back later, um, bye," she hung up the phone and hanged her head. "So not suave, Lopez." Santana shook her head at herself, then got up from her couch and went to her bedroom. Amber had left just after breakfast, needing to talk to the director of her new movie. She got dressed in casual clothes, opting to get a burger from The Place.

* * *

She parked her Mustang in front of The Place and glanced at the door. She got taken by surprise when she sees Brittany walking in, looking down. Then she notices what Quinn was talking about. She did look different. She looked sad, like she wasn't content with the way her life turned out. She was also wearing a long-sleeved shirt and Brittany never liked wearing those unless they were necessary and it wasn't chilly out. No one like Santana could read her, and her Brittany-dar was going off. Something was wrong with her ex, and needed to find out what.

* * *

After she ordered her usual at the counter, she walked over to Brittany, who was texting away at her phone. Santana cleared her throat and smiled.

"Hey," she said, then gestured to the stool next to Brittany, "Are you waiting for someone?" Brittany shook her head and offered nothing more. Santana frowned but sat down. "So, um, you never called me back."

"Oh, that was you? I was busy," she answered with a little hesitance.

"Okay, so I was thinking we could catch up or something and it's perfect now, 'cause we're both here," Santana said, feeling out-of place. "Where's Jack?"

"Daycare. Sam thought he needed to be more social when we moved here. Jack literally spent every waking moment with me," she smiled fondly. Santana noted her eyes shone when she talked about her son.

"Tell me about him."

"He's the sweetest boy. But he's stubborn about what he wants, when he wants it," she shot a look at Santana, who smiled sheepishly. "Um, he's all about basketball. He just loves it so much and I don't even know why, just like I could never understood your love for basketball either. And he likes cars, a lot."

"That kid sounds more mine than Trouty's," Santana joked with a smile. Brittany nodded.

"Good thing I named him, then."

"Why did you? Name him Jack, I mean."

"I didn't name him straightaway," Brittany looked down at her hands, who were moving around absentmindedly in her lap. "I got post postpartum depression and it was for different reasons. I was just so overwhelmed, you know. I was nineteen, and I was still a kid myself. He wasn't planned at all. When I found out I was pregnant, I cried for hours. Sam was supportive until my depression hit, and I thought 'this is it, Britt. Santana won't come back after this', so I named him Jack thinking that at least, a part of you was with me," she finished with a shrug and looked back up at Santana. The singer wrapped her in her arms, dropping a kiss to her shoulder without thinking, that was what she usually did when the blonde was upset. Brittany wasn't crying or upset even. She was over it.

"I would always come back. Baby or not."

* * *

AN: Hope you enjoyed! A little hint; Amber's really jealous in my story.

_Warning: Mentions of depression, mild. _

Finally the Jack thing is out in the open! Hope it satisfied those who questioned about it.

Review if you can, want or just feel like it. Thanks.


	7. Chapter 7: Rose

Santana was perched over her couch with her acoustic guitar over her lap. She was strumming the chords to one of her favorite songs of all time. She then started singing.

_When you make love, do you look in the mirror? _  
_Who do you think of, does he look like me? _  
_Do you tell lies and say that it's forever? _  
_Do you think twice, or just touch 'n' see? _  
_Ooh babe ooh yeah _

She stood up, with her guitar strap slung over her shoulder, and got into the song.

_When you're alone, do you let go?  
Are you wild 'n' willin' or is it just for show?  
Ooh c'mon_

I don't wanna touch you too much baby  
'Cos making love to you might drive me crazy  
I know you think that love is the way you make it  
So I don't wanna be there when you decide to break it  
No!

She closed her eyes, and slung her hair around for the chorus.

_Love bites, love bleeds _  
_It's bringin' me to my knees _  
_Love lives, love dies _  
_It's no surprise _  
_Love begs, love pleads _  
_It's what I need _

Santana was going to continue before a blonde walked in the door, clutching a small stack of paper, and her best friend. Rachel turned to Quinn and muttered, "You'd be surprise how many times I've caught Santana in the middle of an eighty's revival."

"Hey, I heard that! And rock is probably the best music ever, just sayin'," she said, shrugging like she couldn't help but live out the concert in her head. She smirked, then started another song, singing directly at Rachel.

_I gotta know tonight _  
_If you're alone tonight _  
_Can't stop this feeling _  
_Can't stop this fire _

_Oh, I get hysterical, hysteria _  
_Oh can you feel it, do you believe it? _  
_It's such a magical mysteria _  
_When you get that feelin', better start believin' _  
_'Cos it's a miracle, oh say you will, ooh babe _  
_Hysteria when you're near _  
_Out of me, into you yeah _

Quinn was laughing while Rachel blushed at the obvious sexual underlining, shaking her head as Santana smirked. "So, not that I mind, but what are you doing here?"

"Jamie called and said that you hadn't sent her the setlist for tomorrow, and she needs it. Rachel figured you hadn't done it yet," Santana rolled her eyes and Rachel kicked her shin not-so-lightly.

"Ow!"

"And, we thought we'd help you out, choosing the right songs," Quinn continued, ignoring Santana's glare at them.

"I'll just do _Flawless, Girls, You _and.." Santana hesitated, pondering which song to choose before nodding to herself. "_Howlin' For You."_

"Really? Songs about Brittany and your crazy ex?" Rachel practically screamed at her. "How can you do this?"

"Rachel, shut up!" Quinn said to her wife, widening her eyes. Santana frowned as Rachel widen her eyes and a look of surprise and embarrassment ran over her face before she clapped her hand over her mouth. "Um, I'll call Jamie and tell her the songs, we need to get going. Doctor's appointment and all," Quinn stuttered out before stepping out the door, dragging Rachel by her hand, before Santana could even reply.

"Okay, then," she dragged out before shrugging and going back to her couch and flopping on it, strumming her guitar absentmindedly.

* * *

_I fell in love today,_  
_There aren't any words that you can say_  
_That could ever get my mind to change_  
_She's enough for me, she's in love with me_

_You're a doll, you are flawless_  
_But I just can't wait for love to destroy us_  
_I just can't wait for love_  
_The only flaw – you are flawless_  
_But I just can't wait for love to destroy us_  
_I just can't wait for love_

Santana was on the last song of the night, sweating under the lights with her ears buzzing over the screams. She loved the adrenaline she felt when she was performing. She swayed, as she struck the chords on her electric guitar, biting her lip.

_So, she put his heart in a bag, he wouldn't ask for it back_  
_He didn't want her to cry, she didn't want to be sad_  
_She said, "You better not leave me."_  
_This shit'll be fucked for days and weeks and months, but.._.

She sang and she repeated the bridge and chorus, scanning her eyes over the crowd before landing on her friends, and Amber. She didn't know what she was. Her girlfriend? She didn't like it. Ever since her talk with Brittany she had been feeling different. She couldn't pin-point it.

_Add it all up, I can find it_  
_The problem with love is I'm blinded by_  
_It rattles my lungs, but my mind is_  
_Tangled between your little flaws_  
_Your flaws, your flaws, your flaws_

She finished into the microphone, grinning. "Thank you, New York! I love you!"

The crowd screamed, "Encore! Encore! Encore!"

"Well, um, I don't mind but I tend to forget my lyrics so I'm just going to cover one of my favorite songs, here goes," she went over to her guitarist and switched her electric guitar to her acoustic. She tuned it quickly before she started strumming a familiar tune.

_We both lie silently still_  
_In the dead of the night_  
_Although we both lie close together_  
_We feel miles apart inside_

_Was it something I said or something I did_  
_Did my words not come out right_  
_Though I tried not to hurt you_  
_Though I tried_  
_But I guess that's why they say_

Santana wiped the sweat over her brow, she hadn't looked up from her fingers, working the guitar's neck.

_Every rose has its thorn_  
_Just like every night has its dawn_  
_Just like every cowboy sings his same sad old song_  
_Every rose has its thorn_

_Yeah it does_

Santana then noticed how it fit her situation at the moment. She was starting to have feelings for Brittany again, but she was with someone else.

_I listen to our favorite song playing on the radio_  
_Hear the DJ say loves a game of easy come and easy go_  
_But I wonder does he know_  
_Has he ever felt like this_  
_And I know that you'd be here right now_  
_If I could have let you know somehow_  
_I guess_

She looked up for the first time to see everyone swaying their arms over their heads. She repeated the chorus a couple of times, manipulating the chords. "Thank you, New York. You've always been a beautiful crowd. Goodnight!"

* * *

Santana made her way backstage, high-fiving the people in her band and the few of her crew. She walked into her dressing room, just as a blonde walked in behind her.

"Santana, I-... That was amazing," she said as the brunette jumped a little before relaxing.

"I was thinking about you the whole time," Santana admitted as she turned her body to face the woman.

"Yeah?" She queried, receiving a nod as an answer.

"I think, I think I feel something more than I should for you," the singer looked down at her hands, who a few seconds later were being grasped by pale ones.

"I never stopped," Brittany whispered just as Santana leaned in to kiss her lips. They kissed with a confidence only old lovers can have. Santana's hands traveled the familiar path down Brittany's side and slid over her ass. Then, they moved to the back of the dancer's thigh just as Brittany moaned into the brunette's mouth, which muffled it. Santana lifted her thighs until long, pale legs wrapped around her waist.

* * *

AN: A little surprise at the end for you. Brittana is alive and _finally_ on the road to be together. Only five chapters remaining. Review, please. It motivates me._  
_


	8. Chapter 8: Easy

Santana moaned when her tongue came in contact with Brittany's, walking them over to her vanity. Brittany pulled away just as the Latina's hands were getting high under her dress.

"Stop, Sam's waiting for me," Brittany said, her heaving chest almost touching Santana's chin and the singer laid her head on the blonde's chest.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Brittany! Where are you?"

"Mommy!"

Santana scrambled off the woman after hearing the little boy's voice, running her fingers around her mouth. Before she could say something, Brittany had already smoothed down her dress and looked presentable. _We've had plenty of practice from high school_, Santana thought, bitterly, having her kiss with the girl she would always have feelings for. Brittany walked over to the door and opened it, stepping out and leaving Santana feel alone.

* * *

"I loved your show so much, babe. Like it was one of the best I've been to," Amber gushed, squeezing the tan hand on her lap as Santana drove them to her apartment.

"Yeah? I thought it was alright, I guess. I'm excited for the band thing. I've always envisioned myself like being in a band, it's so awesome," Santana smiled just thinking what laid ahead in her career now. She had closed a chapter of her life that she loved, but now, she venturing in things she always wanted.

"I bet _Sinners_ is going to be big," Amber nodded as Santana pulled into her building's garage. "San? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she answered after she opened the door for the blonde.

"Is this relationship going anywhere?" Santana shot her a confused look.

"What do you mean? You're practically living with me," Santana shrugged as they stepped into the elevator, getting quickly to the top floor and stepping into the loft.

"I don't know, I mean, you hardly talk to me about you. I don't know much about you and I'm pretty sure you don't remember my favorite movie."

"Titanic," Santana answered quickly, shrugging her leather jacket off.

"That's not it," Amber said sadly, looking down at her feet, "Quinn mentioned that you and Brittany, your best friend from high school, was back, and that you too were eventually getting back together."

"When the hell did she that? I'm not getting back together with her! This is ridiculous, I've been nothing but trying to be perfect for you," she frowned, then asked, "Is there someone else?"

"I-"

"Tell me the truth."

"Johnny called."

"As in Johnny Depp? Your ex?" Santana questioned, feeling hurt. Amber just nodded.

* * *

Santana ended up outside the Fabray-Berry apartment. Apparently, Amber had too many stuff to carry in one go. Seriously, only three months they lasted. Santana shook her head before knocking. A stressed-out Rachel answered the door.

"Santana, what are you doing here?"

"Code ten," she joked, referring to their time living together, "What's up with you?"

"Um, I'll be right back," Rachel mumbled before dashing to her bedroom, then returned moments later with a sheepish Quinn. Santana had sat down in the meantime in their extremely comfy couch and had turned the TV on.

"What's wrong?" Santana queried from the couch, not bothering to look up to her friends, who were having a silent conversation. It seemed that Rachel won when Quinn sat down next to Santana and turned the TV off.

"Brittany's here, she walked out on Sam and took Jack with her," Quinn said in one breath after a moment of hesitation.

"Where is she?" Santana, surprisingly calm to the women, asked, glancing from one of them to the other.

"Guest room," Rachel answered, watching her best friend get up and walk over to the first door on the right in their corridor. Santana knocked once before going in.

* * *

Brittany laid curled with her son against her chest, his shaggy hair tickling her nose. Jack tried to cuddle her further but the prominent baby bump stopped him. He couldn't wait to be a big brother to the baby. His mom and him were only three months away from meeting the baby. Santana walked into the room, frowning, taking in the picture that greeted her. She couldn't help but feel her insides warming. Brittany looked up from her staring at the comforter that covered them.

"Hey, can we talk?" Santana whispered, and watched as Brittany wordlessly got up, laid a kiss to her son's head then walked over to the Latina. "Outside?" The blonde nodded.

* * *

"Did Rachel call you?"

"No, I- Um, Amber broke up with me. Apparently Johnny Depp is her first choice, not me."

"I'm sorry, I know you liked her," Brittany said, watching Santana as she rummaged the kitchen for ingredients to her favorite sandwich after the blonde had complained she was hungry. She saw the Latina shrug.

"She wasn't my first choice either," Santana stopped buttering the toast to look Brittany in the eye. The blonde blushed and ducked her head. "Besides, there are more important things, like what happened?"

"Nothing, I just thought I needed a change," Brittany said, glancing to her left then settling her gaze on her lap.

"Then why do you have bruises in your arm? Huh? Shaped like fingers?"

"I-" Brittany started, moving to tug her sleeves down to cover her arms when she noticed she had short sleeves on. "I'm sorry!" She cried, bringing her hands up to her face, sobbing quietly into them.

"Shh, baby. It's okay. I've got you. You're safe with me now," Santana left her place by the toaster to wrap her arms around Brittany, holding onto her. "I need to ask... is this the first time?" She felt Brittany shake her head, and rage filled Santana's chest. "Has he ever done it in front of Jack?"

"Tonight was the first time and something snapped in me. I slapped him, then he grabbed my arm, that's how I got these, then I kicked him and got Jack. Then I left."

"Hey, it's going to be okay," Santana said once Brittany started crying. She rocked them slightly, dropping kisses to the blonde's head as she ran soothing circles on her back with her hands. "I'll protect you."


End file.
